


About That...

by C_AND_B



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-29
Updated: 2016-02-29
Packaged: 2018-05-23 23:37:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6133984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/C_AND_B/pseuds/C_AND_B
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke and Lexa have been dating for four months, except they maybe haven't told anyone that, and it's becoming increasingly difficult to hide it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	About That...

You met Lexa at the hospital.

It wasn’t one of those cute clichés where she pretended to have ailments just to come and see you, or two doctors constantly banging in the on call room like every medical show ever. No. It really wasn’t all that exciting. It certainly wasn’t romantic - mostly because you looked like utter shit with it being the end of your twelve hour shift, plus you honestly hadn’t showered in two days.

There was also the fact that she discovered you tiredly leaning on the vending machine, angrily muttering at a jammed bag of Cheetos that they had betrayed you.

You must have looked insane.

She looked beautiful.

It _was_ one of those clichés where you heard her laughing at you but lost your witty retort the moment you witnessed the smirk on her face and the shine of her badge (the obvious response when you were tired and weak and faced with an obscenely attractive cop).

You wouldn’t have hesitated to call her your knight in shining armour when she picked the lock on the machine with a subtle wink and a gesture to keep your mouth zipped about what you saw.

You tried to forget about the detective with the sharp smile and warm eyes until Octavia introduced her as her new partner Lexa. Then you spent your time trying to pretend you weren’t wondering what she tasted like, or what her skin looked like painted with the morning sun.

By the time you could admit to yourself that she had you from the second she saved your snacks, she was kissing you. Or, in reality, you were kissing her, because she brought you something other than hospital coffee and you decided you wanted the on call room to be a little more exciting.

That moment happened four months ago.

Except, there was a chance that no one knew that said event occurred because the two of you wanted to figure out what it actually was before you told everyone, and then the more time that passed, the more scared you got that Octavia was going to be angry with you (which was totally justifiable when you think back to senior year when you kept kissing Finn to yourself for a day, and she kicked off about how best friends were supposed to tell each other everything immediately – probably the reason you knew _way_ too much about her and Raven’s sex life).

That was essentially the basis for how you’d ended up in a secret relationship.

That was how you ended up with a secret that was definitely going to result in you having a heart attack from all the near misses.

Lying and sneaking hadn’t been so bad when the two of you were sharing timid kisses, and almost declarations of feelings. The second Lexa accidentally told you she loved you during climax however - that was when everything started falling apart. That was when you started getting distracted, and reckless, and forgetful about plans made and Octavia’s tendency to barge into your apartment unannounced.

Such forgetfulness was your exact problem this morning.

You wake up to soft, steady breaths against your neck and warm arms circling your waist. You wake up peacefully despite knowing the presence of a certain someone still in your bed means you’ve woken up way before you should have (read: before midday). There’s minimal grumbling when you spin in Lexa’s arms, and you can’t help the chuckle that spills out as she shuffles closer, tucking her face in the crook of your neck.

“Good morning.” She husks in a tone that brings you right back to the night before, a tone that reminds you there are no barriers between her skin and yours, a tone that brings forth the memory that today is your day off and you’re quite sure you can convince her to stay in bed a little longer.

“Morning.” You croak, basking in the smirk you can feel forming against your neck as you slip your hand deftly between your bodies. It falters as your fingers mockingly skim the insides of her thighs. You know she’s only a few seconds away from directing your hand with her own before the banging begins.

(Definitely not the banging you had been hoping for).

“Clarke, wake the fuck up!” Comes the voice from inside your apartment. Octavia’s voice inside your apartment. The very same apartment that is currently housing your secret naked girlfriend. The secret naked girlfriend that you shove out of bed in your haste to collect the haphazardly discarded clothes on the floor. Lexa starts dressing without question and you’re trying to think of some solution to this whole situation when you hear footsteps echoing down your hallway.

Closer.

Closer.

“You have to go down the fire escape.” Lexa blinks, halting in her mission to buckle her belt. The flutter in your stomach reminds you that she’s still shirtless. But you don’t have time for shirtless. You need Lexa, wearing a shirt, moving her damn feet and hiding from Octavia by escaping down the fire escape.

“Clarke, I’m not climbing out of your window.” She says firmly; even as she accepts the shirt you shove at her and lets you slowly begin backing her towards the newly designated exit.

“Yes, you are.” You assert.

“Clarke.” It’s a warning. You know it’s a warning because she’s clenched her jaw and she’s using the same voice she uses on the criminals she brings in for questioning - it’s demanding, and threatening, and low (it’s also mind-blowingly hot and beside the point).

“Lexa.” You mimic and know you’ve won even before you say it. She rolls her eyes as she climbs out the window but pokes her head back through to deliver you one last kiss nonetheless. She’s only just disappearing out of view when Octavia appears in your bedroom doorway with a distasteful look on her face.

“It smells like sex in here.”

“You wouldn’t have to experience it if you’d respected my boundaries and stayed in the communal areas.” Apparently your words mean nothing because she pushing her way further into your room a second later.

“Who?”

“What?” Feign ignorance. Always feign ignorance. It both annoys her and buys you time - two of your favourite things in these types of situations.

“Who did you sleep with?” She throws in an eye roll for good measure and all you can picture is Lexa’s parting sigh as she accepted her fate. “Why are you smiling?”

“I’m not smiling and get out of my room so I can get dressed. What are we doing again anyway?” You question because there better have been a good reason that this was the way you’re day was starting instead of the way you were hoping it would.

“Breakfast.”

“I woke up early for breakfast? Why couldn’t we have eaten lunch, or dinner for that matter?” You left bed with Lexa for this. You made Lexa climb out of your window and down a fire escape, half dressed for this - for a lousy breakfast. You love bacon but it surely wasn’t worth all this.

“Raven wanted to try the new waffle place remember?” You sigh and resign yourself to getting dressed.

They better be the best fucking waffles you’d ever tasted in your life.

* * *

You don’t learn.

You never learn.

Mostly because in the moments that you should be making the smart decisions you’re too busy being distracted at how flustered and breathless Lexa is. It’s your favourite thing. Her skin dancing in tandem with your fingertips is your favourite thing. The impatient husk of your name from her lips is your favourite thing. The playful grin that graces her face when she flips your positions is only second to the guttural growl that slips from her throat when you’re the one doing the flipping.

Stolen moments with her are your favourite thing. Car sex is at least in your top ten so combining the two seemed inevitable. The only thing is - you probably should’ve done it at a more opportune time. That is really to say that you shouldn’t have decided to get it on in the back of your car in Octavia’s parking lot, knowing that said woman, along with Raven, would be showing up within five minutes.

For two rather intelligent people, it was a terrible idea.

For two people who hadn’t had a chance to _see_ each other in three days, it was a fantastic idea.

At least, it seemed like one when you clambered into the backseat and pulled her with you. Honestly, it pretty much seemed like the best idea either of you had ever had until it came to the clean up. Although by _clean up_ , you mean hastily shoving your clothes back on while simultaneously spraying the car with some random scent and haphazardly wiping the foggy windows.

You’re back to sitting silently in the front by the time the other two clamber in – the picture of innocence as you tap the steering wheel to the beat of Taylor Swift and Lexa scrolls through her phone, the embodiment of disinterest.

You’re pretty sure you’ve gotten away with it until you pick Monty up and Raven shifts over to let him in.

“Err, Clarke?” He begins, looking adorably flustered as you catch his eye in the rear-view mirror. At the subtle raise of your brow in response, he clears his throat and begins again. “You, um, left something back here.” Then he’s lifting up a pair of black boy shorts. A very familiar pair of black boy shorts. You catch Lexa’s eyes go wide in your peripherals.

Well, shit.

“Sorry about that.” You reach your hand back blindly to accept them from his hand. “Must’ve slipped out when I went to do laundry.” Monty, on his part, accepts your excuse with a smile and goes back to happily singing along to the radio. You think you could kiss that boy. Raven on the other hand...

“Those aren’t yours, Griffin.” She snorts and Lexa shifts uncomfortably in her seat for a second as she pointedly refuses to look your way. How had she not noticed she had lost her underwear? Why couldn’t they have just accepted your half assed excuses and move on with their lives?

“Yes, they are.”

“Dude, you wore lacy panties for a ten hour shift the other day. No way you own a pair of underwear that simple.” Stupid Raven and her stupidly good deductive reasoning. “So, who did you bone?”

“Who didn’t she bone?” Octavia mutters.

“Guys!” Lexa and Monty admonish in perfect synchronisation and they’re definitely your favourites.

“Oh come on, this is the ninth time in two weeks I’ve stumbled upon some post-coital moment or item. I’m all for Clarke getting some but this is rolling towards intervention territory.” You should just tell her. You should definitely just tell her that it’s been Lexa the whole time and that you’ve been lying to her. She would totally deserve it for all of this. But then she would hold it against you for years, and it’d be your wedding day, and her maid of honour speech would be about that time you lied to her for four months because you’re a terrible friend.

“It’s her life Octavia and Clarke is a very eligible woman.” You want it to be remembered that Monty Green is a true gift to this world.

“Thank you, Monty. Next time you can ride shotgun.” Lexa swivels to face you in her seat.

“Hey, I didn’t say anything!”

“You also didn’t defend me.”

“You’re right. Let’s try this again.” She twists her neck to the two girls in the back. “Raven, it’s weird that you know what underwear Clarke likes to wear and Octavia, we all know about your questionable past so don’t be a hypocrite.” She turns back to you with an expectant smile and you return it despite the roll of your eyes.

“I guess you can stay.” You mutter and she smiles triumphantly as she turns the music up suddenly and starts dramatically serenading you. She completely ignores the confused looks she’s receiving from the three in the back for the uncharacteristic display and it makes your heart stutter.

She’s a complete idiot.

You really love her.

* * *

She looks really hot.

You hadn’t expected her to look so hot. Obviously you know how hot she can be. You know how hot she _is_ but you weren’t ready for this. You won’t lie - when the words costume party were uttered you figured that Lexa would do the absolute minimum and then fully exploit the fact that she was intimidating enough to not be questioned on her lack of participation.

The fact that she refused to tell you what she was dressing up as before the party only solidified that hypothesis, so you can’t really be blamed for practically choking on your spit when you spot her in the crowd.

Lara Croft.

She’s dressed as Lara Croft, complete with leg holsters, and a bow and arrow, and perfectly placed dirt that is igniting some entirely strange fantasies within you.

You’re really starting to regret wearing a full body banana costume until she catches your eye and lets a smile slip over her lips. She winks as you unabashedly drink her in and it’s in these moments that you wish you had the courage to just blurt it all out in the open so you could kiss her (or drag her straight out of the party and back to your apartment) because this shit was just unfair.

You’re startled out of your Lexa induced haze by your phone buzzing in your pocket, and you’re almost thankful that you have something else to look at, until you realise it’s a message from her.

_Lexa: You look **appealing**_

_Clarke: You can raid my tomb anytime_

_Lexa: I’ve been thinking about you all day. Especially this morning when I woke up alone... Your lips trailing down my neck, your breathy moans as I slip my fi_

“I’m glad someone else decided to take this whole thing as a joke.” You unceremoniously tuck your phone out of sight as Raven appears beside you dressed as a hot dog. You wish it were funny enough to deter your brain from whirring with images of Lexa. It isn’t. You’re going slowly insane.

“Spending all day dressed in scrubs doesn’t exactly make a girl want to slip into a slutty nurse costume, you know?” You peek down at your phone as she chuckles and unconsciously begins scanning the room for her other half. You’re greeted with a picture of Lexa leaning against a cab outside and when in the hell did she manage to slip out of here?

_Lexa: Make my dreams a reality?_

“Sorry, Raven, something’s come up.” You almost get out unscathed. You always _almost_ get away with it. Why couldn’t it be Lexa for once who had to explain herself to Octavia? Why wasn’t it Lexa right now who had Octavia blocking her exit with an annoyingly knowing look?

“Where are you going?”

“I-“

“Booty call.” Raven cuts in.

“No, it’s not.” You scoff.

“Clarke, you got here five minutes ago, made one joke, got a text and now you’re leaving. I’d be more annoyed if you weren’t leaving for sex.” You suppose she has a point and honestly you can’t bring yourself to care too much about this situation knowing Lexa is waiting outside.

“You’re right. It’s a booty call, a phone bone if you will, so I better get going.” You’re halfway out the door by the time you register Octavia shouting from behind you.

“We’re going to talk about this, Griffin.” You barely take note of her words as you catch sight of Lexa ducking into the cab and rush to follow her in.

The smile on her face when you jump in beside her makes you think it’s worth suffering through Octavia’s inquisition.

* * *

You can’t catch a break.

You’re supposed to be celebrating Lexa’s promotion. You’re supposed to be happily kissing your girlfriend and not being interrupted because you were doing this in your own apartment. The apartment that you pay for, and live in, and continuously hope to not be blindsided in because when you gave your friend a key, that wasn’t code for ‘ _come in whenever you like without warning_ ’.

“Clarke, why do you have so many candles lit in here?” You were really starting to hate Octavia and her inability to respect your boundaries. You’re sure Lexa was probably edging towards hating you as you shove her out of bed (yet again) and towards the closet.

“I haven’t been here for quite some time.” She chuckles as she surveys her surroundings. Her grin is nothing if not goofy as she gives you one last kiss and shuts the door on herself (you’re lucky she decided you were the one person she could be a dork for). You’re trying not to laugh as you leave your room and find Octavia staring at your apartment like she’s never seen it before in her life.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

"Don't play dumb Griffin. It's like a fucking séance in here and is that..." She pauses to inhale deeply before she throws you a piercing stare. "You made lasagne. Where are they?"

“I would like to get back to your weird smelling thing later but right now I’m telling you. There’s. No. One. Here.” She scoffs in a clear show of her lack of belief because of course she wasn’t going to make this easy. You’re not really quite sure how long Lexa will tolerate being hidden between your clothes but it’s certainly not as long as Octavia could stand here pointing out obvious reasons that you couldn’t just be hanging out in your apartment alone.

"Yes, there is. You're way too lazy to light candles just because; heck I didn't even know you owned candles. Plus lasagne is your seduction dish. We've been friends for too long, Clarke; you can't hide this from me. So where are they?" _Deny, deny, deny._

"I'm just having dinner."

"Bullshit. Is it the same person as last time?"

"Octavia." You berate, exasperated, because at what point did your sex life mean this much to her? At what point did she start being the sex police?

"It isn't is it? Why don't you just admit that you have a crush on Lexa and stop this whole replacement thing? Is it because she's my partner because it wouldn't bother me?" She looks so sincere that you almost let it all spill out. Four months of lies. Four months of hiding. Four months of ammo that she would use against you for the rest of your life.

"Okay, O, stop. I don't have a _'replacement thing'_ but I do have a lasagne in the oven that is probably burning so please get out."

"Fine but this isn’t over and don’t think I’ve forgotten about you skipping out on the party." She huffs and you nod automatically.

"I would expect nothing less." You’re incredibly thankful for the arms that wrap around your waist as your door finally closes. You’re even thankful for the smirk on her face as you twist in her arms because, although you have no idea what’s to come, she’s still so incredibly charming.

"So you have a crush on me, huh?"

"You're literally my girlfriend." You state but she continues on as though you hadn’t said a word.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner, Clarke? I have a crush on you too."

"You're such a dork." You chuckle and receive a kiss in return.

"A dork you have a crush on."

"Not for much longer if you don't shut up."

"Please, you'd never get rid of me. You love my candle collection too much." You will admit you were oddly impressed when you’d returned from the store to your entire living room covered in candles. You were also slightly hesitant about the fire hazard it obviously posed but she smiled proudly enough, and it smelled nice enough, that you let it slide.

"I mean it's a little excessive." She feigns anguish - pressing her hand dramatically to her chest and gasping.

"Take that back."

"Do you think they heard me?" You mock whisper and she’s the one laughing now as she easily tugs you onto the couch with her.

“You made lasagne for me on our first date.” She states once you’ve made yourself comfortable, laying your head in her lap and allowing her to carefully begin putting it into braids - you’ve always loved the way her nails would scratch against your scalp and the caution in her fingertips as she precisely tugged on your hairs.

You can perfectly remember the first time you’d woken up with her by your side and found her nervously braiding your hair and avoiding sleep because she wasn’t sure that you wanted her around when you woke up (you had definitely wanted her there and you told her as much between kisses).

“I did.”

“And here I was thinking I was special.” You look up at her just to roll your eyes and she responds with a particularly rough tug.

“Lexa, I made two extra lasagnes for you to take home with you because I had been nervously cooking all day. I think you’re pretty special.” You had been a wreck but your lasagnes were, without question, amazing.

“Good because I think you’re pretty special too.” She grins against your lips as she kisses you and you lose yourself in everything that is her - which is why she’s totally to blame when the lasagne burns, but she chews through the blackening like a pro so you don’t say a thing.

(At least it wasn’t your apartment from those bloody candles).

* * *

“Octavia wants to set us up and I’m going to let her.” Is the first thing you say when you stumble into your apartment after a particularly grueling workout/interrogation from your friend. You don’t even think to question whether or not Lexa is actually there because there’s been an unspoken shifting of her stuff to your place for a while now, and you’re pretty sure she’d been calling this place home since she planted potted flowers on your balcony (yet another situation that you had been struggling to explain to Octavia).

"Clarke, we've been dating for four months. I don't think we need a set up." She replies without looking up from her book.

"I know, but since I've been lying about a myriad of hook-ups to hide your gay ass, she thinks I’m, and I quote, ‘ _throwing myself into sad one night stands to forget about my obvious love for you’_ " She places the book on the table with a laugh as she joins you in your raid of the fridge.

"Just tell her we're dating and all problems are solved."

"Just tell Octavia that we've been lying about dating for four months?” You question with raised brows and she cringes slightly before conceding.

"Maybe you're right." You nod like you’re glad she came to the obvious conclusion.

"Super, then remember to act surprised when she talks to you about it." She nods, ducking her head to steal a kiss before she wanders back to her resting place.

You’re about to be free. She’ll talk to Lexa and then you’ll pretend to go on a first date and everything will be fine. Octavia will feel like a hero for getting the two of you together and her ego will be large enough for her to overlook all the obvious signs that the two of you have been lying to her for months.

Everything will be fine.

* * *

Everything is not fine.

Honestly it was a perfectly reasonable mistake for you to make. Quite frankly, why wouldn’t you assume that a brunette looking through your apartment fridge with braided hair and a leather jacket on was your girlfriend? And on that note, why wouldn’t you come home and wrap your arms around said brunette?

There is no reason that you would not do those things.

You wrap your arms around her waist before you’ve even taken your coat off. You fail to notice the way she doesn’t lean into you like she normally does. You fail to notice any difference in her until your lips skim her earlobe.

“Hey, Commander.” You whisper because you know what it does to her when it spills from your lips as opposed to the mocking tone it gets delivered with by her squad. It’s not until your hand starts slipping lower that you realise your mistake. It’s not until the person is jerking out of your embrace and shouting that you realise everything is going to hell.

"Jesus, Clarke!" It's Octavia and she looks mortified at first until her face morphs into an annoyed realisation. "Did you just say Commander? As in-" It’s almost comical how Lexa walks in at that exact moment, seemingly oblivious to the extra person in your home and the situation that’s unfolding not five feet away from her.

"Babe, you’re home. Do you want pizza or sushi?" That would’ve been such a lovely question if Octavia hadn’t been standing there, on the road to getting whiplash, with each new flick of her head between the two of you.

"Lexa. You and _Lexa_. You've been banging this whole time?!"

"I prefer the term dating.” Lexa chimes in and suddenly you’re laughing because you can’t do anything else at this point. Plus there’s something entirely freeing about it being out in the open finally, even if Octavia will give you stick (or it was mortifying for that split second when you realised you tried to put your hand down your best friend’s pants).

“How did I not see this?” She mutters to herself.

“I’ve been asking myself the same thing _Detective_ Blake.”

“How long?” She questions forlornly and you feel slightly bad but it’s definitely overshadowed by the need to mock her for as long as you can before she turns this back on you.

“About that...”

“Five months.” Lexa cuts in, like she assumes you’re about to avoid the truth for however long you possibly can. She wouldn’t be wrong of course. There are certain things you’re good at being honest about - your dating life is apparently not one of them.

“So all these times?” She questions and Lexa speaks up again.

“I don’t even want to go into how many places Clarke has made me hide.” You visibly grimace as you recall the incredibly obscure and probably emotionally scarring places Lexa has had to hide in over the past months. Except then you remember all of the awkward situations you’ve had to diffuse whilst she was climbing down fire escapes and cramming herself into kitchen cupboards and you suddenly don’t feel so horrible.

“That call I got last week about the half naked woman scaling a building in this block?” She questions and you can’t help but blush.

“I can neither confirm nor deny whether that was me.” Lexa replies.

“I just have one more question.”

“Okay...” You respond cautiously because this could go a few ways.

“Can you keep this a secret for like two more weeks because I have a lot of money riding on this and I really hate Raven’s _‘I told you so’_ dance?” You can’t say you were expecting that.

“We’ll keep it a secret if you never bring up how we lied to you for four months.” You say and she deliberates for a few seconds.

“Deal.” Thank God.

“Good. Now get out. I’m pretty sure my girlfriend offered me pizza and I intend to cash in.”

“That better not be some kind of kinky euphemism.” She comments as a parting shot and you laugh as you swear that it’s not, except then you finally let your gaze fall onto Lexa.

It’s not.

You swear that it’s not.

(It totally is).


End file.
